Literature
9/5/16
storm coming down, really coming down,
angry, lonely perhaps.
safety hanging around my neck more precisely,
pinned to my collar my hand always
going to my clavicle to remind me,
i am safe, i am not alone.
i am alone
in this bedroom, sitting on my newly-made bed.
this is wrong, isn’t it?
is this wrong?
the storm is lonely and angry
and that means you and i have something in common.
you taught me to love the rain,
and i learned, like i learned to love you,
all at once, coming down, really coming down,
and i am perhaps lonely and angry,
but i have you,
at the end of the storm at least.
until then...